


Cookies and Cream

by carpelucem



Series: I Choose You [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Chuck is a really good brother, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpelucem/pseuds/carpelucem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noon on Sunday is a standing date for Chuck, Mako, the NFL satellite package he pays for, and Mako's amazing sofa. </p><p>He doesn't recall inviting her new neighbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies and Cream

Chuck knocks once, twice, three times on Mako's door before he has to balance the casserole dish full of dip and chips and the six pack of beer in his hands to dig his key out of his pocket. 

"Mako?" His voice echoes in the apartment, and Chuck leaves all his things on the table, takes a look in her room, but his sister's nowhere to be found. 

Checking his watch, Chuck wonders if he's forgotten Daylight Saving Time or something, because noon on Sunday is a standing date for the two of them, the NFL satellite package he pays for, and Mako's sofa. 

He's midway through a frantic four text stream when the front door opens and some stocky dude comes in, wearing a hoodie and a Patriots cap, laying crap down on the counter like he owns the place. Chuck grabs the katana Mako has hanging in her hallway, and waits for a moment before springing out, brandishing the sword like a battle ax.

"OI! Get the fuck out!"

The look on the guy's face is startled, shifting into shocked, then into predatory, and without hesitation, he pulls a butcher knife from the block by the stove. 

"Me? Who the fuck are you?"

"None of your business, mate, but you're gonna lay that down, back the hell away, and I might let you keep your arms and legs." Chuck's phone starts buzzing on the hall table, and he chances a look before jabbing in the direction of the kitchen. "Where's Mako?" 

The guy is cocky, his jaw set in a line, shaking his head. "Who are you?" 

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Chuck starts, and he's about four steps from the dining room table when Mako walks in, bakery box in her arms, wearing some lumpy green monstrosity of a sweater, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees Chuck with her blade in his hand. 

His sister just sighs, shakes her head, mutters something under her breath. Looking to the interloper, she asks him to replace her knife, please. Crossing the room, Mako lays a hand on Chuck's and draws the sword from his fingers, replacing it on the wall. 

"Really?" It's all she says, rolling her eyes before slipping her hand in his, fingers clasped tightly, almost petting his arm in that soothing way she has, pulling him over to the kitchen. 

"It seems as though you have already met, but Chuck?" Mako looks at him, plea in her gaze to be normal, to calm down. 

Chuck takes a deep breath. "Yeah?" 

"This is my neighbor, Raleigh. He lives across the hall." The guy, Raleigh, pushes off the counter, crosses his arms over his chest.

"Raleigh, this is Chuck. He's -" 

"Pissed you didn't remember I was coming over. It's Sunday." Chuck ignores the way the arrogant dickhead from across the hall is still giving him the once-over and moves past him to the fridge, to throw the beer in. 

Shutting the door a little harder than he needs to, Chuck is fully aware that he's acting like a total prick. Mako just gives him the look that says 'be nice or I'll gut you," and goes into her bedroom. 

"Yeah, no green today, Mori. Bad luck if they're playing the Jets," Chuck calls after her. 

Creasing back the foil on his dish, Chuck rustles about for plates and napkins in Mako's kitchen, moving as far around Raleigh as the small space will allow him. The Icebox's embossed logo is stamped on the box Mako hauled in earlier and Chuck opens the corner, sees a dozen towering cupcakes under the lid. His mouth waters and he wants to grab one when he hears Raleigh clear his throat behind him. 

"How do you know Mako?" Raleigh asks, obviously trying to size up Chuck. There's the barest hint of jealousy under his question, and if Chuck wasn't still prickly from the dude busting into his sister's apartment and pulling a knife on him, Chuck might cut him a little slack, go easy on him. 

"From where I'm standing, it's none of your business, but we've been close for a long time," Chuck gives him the shit-eating grin that drives his dad nuts and Mako never tolerates, twists the top off a bottle of water. "What's it to you?" 

"Chuck." Mako walks out in the Patriots jersey he sent her winter before last, to wear when the 49ers were in the SuperBowl and she still lived in Berkeley. 

"See? That's better." He grabs her hand, twirls her arm, smacks a kiss on top of her head, laughing at the increasingly green tinge coloring Raleigh's face. 

Mako just looks back at Chuck, frowns, pushes him away. She moves to Raleigh, who traces the number on her sleeve. 

"A Brady girl, huh?" 

"Chuck bought it for me. He won't bring food unless I wear it for game day." She opens the box of cupcakes, pulls one dusted with Oreo crumbs out and offers it to Chuck. "Cookies and cream. Your favorite." 

There's a little furrow between Raleigh's eyes when Chuck takes a bite that Chuck notices smoothing out when he takes another. "Ughh, I'm trying to convince Dad to use these guys for the wedding. They’re the best in the city." 

Mako bites her lip, looks over at Raleigh, who is actually smiling at Chuck. 

"You don't think Caramello's better, on the north side?" Raleigh asks him. 

Chuck shakes his head, swipes frosting from his lip. "Nah, their cake's dry as shit. We went for a tasting last month, and their filling tastes fake." Taking another bite, he chews thoughtfully as he remembers the guy behind the espresso machine when he went into the bakery Friday morning, with the blue eyes and Captain America hair. "Icebox has that Russian babe and the hot barista." 

"Yancy," Raleigh offers, and Chuck just nods, finishes the cupcake.

"That’s his name," Chuck confirms, filing the fact away for later. “You go there, too?” 

Mako laughs, then scoops a chip into Chuck's dip, watching the two of them go back and forth. She shares another look with Raleigh and Chuck's starting to feel like he's outside the joke. 

"What?" 

"Raleigh and his older brother, Yancy, own The Icebox." The wicked little smile on Mako's face causes a blush to spread down Chuck's face, staining his neck red.

"Goddammit, Mako, you couldn't have said something before I made a fool of myself?" Chuck stalks over to the couch, stabbing at the remote, looking for the game. "Lucky you have a brother, man, they're not fucking sadistic like sisters," he shoots over his shoulder. The only satisfaction Chuck has is when he hears Raleigh curse behind him. 

"He's your brother?" Raleigh looks shocked, and it makes Chuck feel a little better. "Jesus, Mako, I thought - nevermind." 

Chuck just turns after setting the Tivo, shrugs. "Sorry, mate." It feels like the field's leveled a bit, Chuck's big mouth backfiring as usual, his foot fitting in there nicely with the stupid crack about Raleigh's (admittedly, really hot) brother. He offers his hand to Raleigh. "Chuck Hansen." 

Admirably, the guy takes it, shakes after Mako gives him an encouraging nod. "Raleigh Becket." Gesturing to the tv, he asks, "Think we're going to the SuperBowl this year?" 

Chuck hates sharing the couch and the spring rolls he always finds in Mako's fridge, but figures if Raleigh brings cookies and cupcakes every week, it just might work out. 

Mako hides her sword, just in case.


End file.
